Page 31 of Unmasking the Earl

Where was Ella? Fresh air and the brisk walk home were exactly what Cassie needed right now. She needed to think.

Spotting the books still scattered all over the floor, she continued to gather them up and return them to their shelves. When she came to the inscribed book of Byron’s poetry, her fingers moved thoughtfully over the cover. And she smiled.

She had promised not to reveal Ned’s secrets to anyone. But she hadn’t promised not to pay a visit to her good friend, Portia. Certainly, the young widow must be in need of some company.

Perfect. She could keep an eye on Ned and make sure his temper didn’t land him in jail. She could also ensure no harm came to Captain Wycherley.

And if, when Ned saw her again, he insisted on giving her another kiss or two, well, perhaps she should allow it.

Perhaps he’d been right, and he was the man who should be giving her lessons in the art of kissing. He was, after all, very good at it.

Chapter Fifteen

Ned had stabled his stallion Maxim at the Lamb and Flag in St. Giles, well away from the curious eyes of Wycherley’s household. He’d walked only half the distance there when the heavens opened.

Blast! His caped coat was still damp from his earlier ride and would give no protection at all. He was forced to find the nearest shop and take shelter in its doorway.

“I’ll cut his tongue out,” Ned vowed to the rain. Now that his goal was in sight, his emotions ran hot with thoughts of his impending revenge. “I’ll blacken his eye and break his nose. No one will ever want to look on his face again. My dear, sweet Georgiana, what has he brought you to?”

His tirade was startled out of him when a gentleman stepped out of the shop, a paper-wrapped package under his arm.

The man waved a hand at Ned and peered out at the skies from beneath the brim of his stylish beaver hat. “I say,” he exclaimed. “Not a good day to be out and about. I have my umbrella, but I’d still live in fear of drowning.” This last was said with a laugh, but the amused expression faded from the man’s face when he saw the expression on Ned’s.

“Have we met, sir?” Ned asked suspiciously.

“I don’t believe so,” the other said equably. “I think I would have remembered you. Julian Carnforth, at your service.”

He bowed, and momentarily stunned, Ned bowed back, spilling a quantity of water from his hat brim.

The other man chuckled. “You, I take it, did not think to bring an umbrella.”

“Ned Talbot. And, er, no, I didn’t,” said Ned without thinking, unable to drag his eyes away from the other man’s face. Good Lord. The longshanks, the beanpole, the one who had nearly wrested the fickle Lady Lucy away from Captain Wycherley.

The very man Cassandra Blythe was prepared to risk everything for.

“Carnforth? Hmm. I believe we have a mutual acquaintance,” Ned said carefully, well aware he was no expert at small talk. Or subtlety, for that matter. But he just couldn’t help himself.

“We do? How splendid!”

Cassie’s beloved was a cheerful gentleman, at any rate. Must be one of his attractions. Ned suddenly wished to know all of them. Why she preferred this man over any other.

Over him, for example.

“Indeed,” Ned choked out. “I have recently come to know Miss Cassandra Blythe.”

Carnforth’s eyes widened. “Hold on. Did you say Ned Talbot? Not the missing Earl of Stranraer, surely?”

Damnation! Why the hell had he given his real name? What an idiot. “The very same, but I’d be in your debt if you would keep that to yourself for now. I am not quite ready to return to the world at large.”

Carnforth tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. “Won’t say a word, my lord. I was sorry to hear of your family tragedy. It must be truly terrible to lose a sister. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I lost Cassie.”

Bitter gall rose up in Ned’s throat. Jealousy? No, of course not. But he was curious. She was gambling her reputation to attract this man. The least Ned could do was make sure Carnforth’s intentions were honorable.

“You are very fond of her?” he asked.

“Oh yes. We are the best of friends. We grew up together as near neighbors. While our parents visited, we entertained each other when adult conversation turned boring. She used to love looking at my schoolbooks and my drawings, I recall, and I used to put her up on my pony and lead her around. But naturally, things have changed now.”

“How so?”